On the one hand, Sir Edward, though so loving to his own wife, certainly – and regrettably – had doubts about her many siblings and might easily blame them for this unaccountable change in his own daughter’s character. On the other, whether Ned was a lunatic or pursuing a love match, she could quite see her brothers taking his side. In which case, the relationship between the families would quickly degenerate, leaving Fanny on bad terms with each. It really did have the potential to be most disagreeable.

What an unfortunate start to the New Year. She could only pray that the worst was behind her.

CHAPTER XXVIII

The next morning, the first day of January 1826, Fanny was alone in the breakfast room when the footman announced ‘Mr Austen Knight’.

‘Oh, dear good Papa.’ With a clatter, Fanny dropped dish upon saucer. ‘As you might well expect, you find us all in a deep state of shock and the most terrible anguish. My poor husband is suffering acutely, and I might add that I too feel more than a little aggrieved. What on this earth can have given Ned such a dreadful idea – mere folly, would you say, or has my brother quite lost his senses?’ She shook her head in despair. ‘Though, of course, it is Ned himself who should be begging forgiveness, I very much doubt that Sir Edward would see him. Still – he is out walking at the moment – my husband will take some comfort from knowing that you, dearest, have come in his place.’

She issued a kind smile – for Fanny had long held the role of family pacifist – signalled the muffins and passed the preserves. But her father, never before known to refuse any sweetmeat, refused this with a show of the flat of his hand.

‘My dear Fan,’ he began, more puzzled than stern, ‘we seem to be speaking somewhat at cross purposes. I am not here to apologise, rather to make the case for the match.’

‘The case?’ Fanny felt the first stirrings of fear.

But her father’s attention had turned back to the breakfast. ‘Oh, perhaps I might indulge in a morsel. A crisis always gives one an appetite, do you not find?’ All comforts established, Mr Austen Knight sat back in his chair, took a mouthful and stared out of the window. ‘Fanny.’ He coughed. ‘My dear.’ He put down the plate and gathered his strength. ‘Clearly, the manner of last evening’s proposal did not go as well as it ought. It seems Sir Edward feels very strongly that Ned should have sought his permission first. Ned now sees that, regrets it and has, quite rightly, apologised.’

‘Well, that is something,’ Fanny had to concede. ‘Though I still cannot quite understand what exactly—’

But her papa was not listening, appearing intent on his own speech rather than any discussion. ‘However, to deprive this good couple of happiness on a mere point of formality would be an injustice.’